


Orphan love

by TerresDeBrume



Series: Flash Fic Night Prompts [40]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7715329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things change. Others just stay the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orphan love

Luke, Han finds, hasn’t changed a bit. He’s blonder, maybe, than he was when they met—the suns of Tatooine have laid their hands there—and the way he’s grown into his cheekbones make him look even more like Leia’s twin, but there’s not mistaking the pose, the quiet but unyielding strength, the world of determination engraved around his eyes.

 

“You look—”

“Like a wraith,” Luke cuts off, smile stretched too far over a tired face, swallowed whole by the dark brown of Obi-Wan’s too-big robes. “You look good, though.”

 

Han resists the urge to look down at his pot belly—a source of pride for the street orphan he once was, although enough people in Coruscant failed to understand the sentiment for Han to grow self-conscious about it—and shrugs instead, hands shoved deep inside his belt to prevent their fluttering.

 

“I try to,” he says, failing to muster a smirk. “I—you had a point about needing more sleep.”

“Well,” Luke admits, “You weren’t entirely wrong about eating more, either.”

“Adaptation is a pain, uh?”

 

Luke buries his hands in the sleeves of Obi-Wan’s robes and ducks his head down—a lifetime ago, he did the same thing as Han yelled at him. He can’t even remember why now, but he supposes that’s normal after a story like theirs. At least, that’s what Leia told him afterward, Chewie nodding approvingly behind her.

Stories like theirs sometimes suck.

 

“Leia told me you were staying on Naboo for a while?”

“We’ve got some business to conclude with the Gungans,” Han says with a nod, “For some reason they like me. What about you?”

“Our mother was from Naboo.”

 

Han nods, throat tightening. Leia never quite understood that part—it used to be one of the biggest gaps between them, back before the technicalities of rebuilding the galaxy drove them apart. Then again, Leia was never an orphan the way Luke and Han were. She can’t be blamed for not quite getting it.

 

“Maybe—”

 

Han hesitates, shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he gets the heat of his neck under control, chases the ants out of his palms as quietly as he can.

 

“Maybe you can tell me what you find out. Someday. Before I leave.”

“Yes,” Luke says, something fragile and familiar hovering at the corner of his lips, “I’ll com you.”

 

They part ways in awkward half-mumbles and too-tight silences, and the tingle of Luke’s new com ID scrawled across Han’s palm.


End file.
